My small city centre is bleak on a Sunday evening in September. Closed shops and restaurants, only a handful of people around. A chilly wind.
I should be enjoying my aimless stroll while waiting for my two best friends. But I feel my mood sinking. I wander past the market square and see a small gang of hooded teenagers looking bored and two young women with suitcases on their way to the train station. A couple of weary-looking businessmen are exiting a taxi in front of the Radisson Hotel. I spend some time in the DVD rental shop, cheered by its bright lights. There are only two other customers, a young couple picking out a film and buying sweets for a cosy night in.
I feel a dark cloud of loneliness settling over my head.
It lifts when I see my friends. In an almost-empty restaurant, we settle into a dark corner. We eat a delicious, creamy chanterelle soup and brownies with sherbet. I keep my thick, chocolate-coloured sweater on all through dinner - not even the warm lights around us can dispel all the chilliness of this autumn. We talk about death and losing faith.
As I make my way home through abandoned streets, my weariness is heavy. It has been a dark evening. I think of the dreams I had, so long ago. I lost some and found some, now I feel there should be a sense of maturity and calm over my life, a sureness in moving on to the next phase. But I feel lost, and I saw that same confusion in my friends' eyes tonight.
Still, we are there for each other, sharing this like we shared those dreams of our youth. I finally slip my key into the door, arriving in my safe home where a warm bed is welcoming me. Arriving at a conclusion.
It's autumn, and I'm tired and not sure where I'm going, but life is still wonderful.
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